Snippet #2370553

"I’ll die before I talk. I know you’d kill me—I know you would—but that’s okay."

Gabriel looked upon those in front of him with a somewhat bemused expression, a hint of mirth upon his face. Die before talking, huh? He slowly folded his legs, leaning back, ensuring his mask was secure. While he respected her moxy, this girl had no idea what she was blathering on about. Many of BLOOD's human slaves held similar supposed iron-clad wills when they were first abducted.

That's the sad fact about beings that are capable of experiencing pain. All of them—all of them—without exception, will break when the proper leverage is applied. All that is required is time, resources, and perhaps a... creative imagination.

And that was the goal. Leverage.

The soul-eater girl was interesting. Gabriel had come up against soul-eaters before, and, while tough to deal with in close combat, the main threat they posed was their ability to drain you—eat your soul. Gabe closed his eyes, remembering past conflicts.

There was only one soul-eater that had ever gotten close to draining him, and, on that day, that soul-eater almost destroyed himself. "Something is wrong with your soul, pup." He recalled the soul-eater snarling at him. His eyes and ears were bleeding some sort of viscous black liquid. "It's corrupted. Diseased. Dark and tainted. Unholy." The soul-eater sputtered, expectorating more of the blackened phlegm-like liquid. He pointed an enormous blade at Gabe, fangs out, his massive white wings unfurling to their full height and glory, bathing the room in an intense white light... that began to die down. It got dimmer and dimmer until Gabe realized that one of the soul-eater's wings was... decaying? It was as if black paint had been splashed onto the thing, spreading like a sentient being, causing the mighty appendage to curl in on itself like a rotting fruit.

The Slayer smiled to himself, enjoying the memory. To this day, that particular soul-eater hasn't attempted to drain him again. Hasn't dared. Further, when compared to the holy soul-eater that almost stomped him out, Gabe thought of this girl as but a babe, lost in the woods of true power.

Refocusing on the issue at hand, Gabe adjusted his glare, taking in the entirety of the situation he'd created. All as actors, playing their parts. Specifically, the soul-eater girl wasn't as devoid of self-control as he had initially assumed. If she'd jumped onto his exposed back and tried to drain him, she probably would have destroyed herself. The fact that she didn't at least try, well, that was interesting.

Perhaps he'd underestimated her sense of control, as he did with the human? Heh, wouldn't that be something. The human CIA agent, Skylar, who took on Depravity. Gabe would never forget that. An elf whose attack so easily harmed Depravity. Gabe turned to look at the Elf in question, whom was busy soothing the soul-eater girl. She was also interesting. A demon champion who has yet to display his abilities, a mad god bent on global annihilation, and now a soul-eater spy girl with connections.

Powerful players are being drawn into this conflict. Gabe nodded to himself, making a mental note. How far up does this go? Who is really pulling the strings here? Gabe looked back at his human slaves, thoughts returning to purpose. Something to be reported later, but for now...

"You said your name was Natasha, soul-eater?"

For the first time, Gabe considered her age. He'd been thinking of her as "girl" in reference to her presumed position beneath him in the pecking order, but perhaps they were of similar age? A quick smile flickered across Gabe's face at the irony of it all, although his mask made the transient expression unnoticeable. Eh, I don't quite remember how old I am anyway.

"Well, Natasha, you said you wouldn't tell us anything... and yet you've given us all the ammunition we need. For that I, personally, thank you."

The colonel handed Gabe the helicopter's communications headset.

"Natasha Nixon, daughter of Aeron Nixon." Gabe pressed a button on the headset and everyone went silent.

Gabe sighed, clearing his throat. He really didn't like speaking, especially at length, but the mission demands it. "Aeron Nixon," he began, bringing the headset's mic closer to his mask, "God of Destruction. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Gabriel Morgan DeKnight, Kin Killer and Champion Slayer of BLOOD. Sorry to have wasted so much of your time here, we just had a slight..." Gabe eyed Natasha. "...hierarchical issue with the pecking order." He cleared his throat again. "So, you say you're looking for some sort of spy girl?" Gabe paused for dramatic effect, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Interesting. Let me check."

He took his finger off the headset, still staring at Natasha, returning the helicopter's interior to the ambiance of radio static. Nix had yet to respond.

"Nirvana has a point, this is extremely foolish. If that fighter jet over there is, as you say, willing to shoot this contraption out of the sky, that would result in your death as well—I'd make sure of it. Further, your so-called telepathic abilities apparently haven't been invoked, have they? I wonder why that is. Why aren't you crying to daddy right now? Telling him to blow us up?" Gabe raised his chin, clearing his throat yet again. "It's because you don't truly want to go home with daddy," he said, mocking her earlier tone, "yet you don't seem to want to stay here. So I offer you this, holy beast, spy, and daughter of Aeron: share with us what you know, of your own volition, and it'll be as the Elf says, you'll be free to do whatever you want—though I can't speak for the demon or that human whom challenged Depravity over there," Gabe finished, pointing at Skylar.

Gabe was sincere. He did not really care for the soul-eater one way or the other. Her going free wouldn't likely be a detriment to their cause. To be honest, they weren't ready for a fight with Nix—they'd just met just a few hours ago. They were too uncoordinated as a team. They didn't know each other's strengths and weaknesses, and they'd definitely have to work in an efficient and synergistic manner to defeat Nix, so fighting the God of Destruction right now was just not an option.

Instead, they needed absolute ascendancy. Leverage. Again, the goal has always been leverage.

Either leverage against Nix or leverage against Natasha. It was funny, because they could be used as bargaining chips against each other. Nix was the leverage against Natasha. Natasha was, hopefully, the leverage against Nix. If she did not agree to Gabe's terms, then it would be Nix who would have to make the hard choice next: take his jet and disappear, or lose his daughter forever. A viable plan B.

"Choose wisely," Gabe muttered. "We don't want to keep daddy waiting."